


Circles

by frooley



Category: Rhett & Link, Rhett and Link
Genre: 1950s, 1960s, 1970s, Alternative personalities, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Racism, Self-Hatred, Sexism, Slurs, Woodstock, drug usage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-26 18:45:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9916109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frooley/pseuds/frooley
Summary: “You’re like a jenga tower, teetering on the edge of collapsing, but you always end up surprisingme in the end. How do you do that?”Loosely based on a show called 'Webster' that aired in the early 1980's





	1. you make and break the most of us

**Author's Note:**

> (warning; this story is placed and based in the 1950’s and  
> the 1960’s, which consisted of a giant period of racial  
> controversy, so there is racial slur, homophobia,  
> homophobic slur, descriptions of drug usage, descriptions  
> of abuse, and descriptions of rape/non con. used in this  
> story.)  
> Ps. i'm not racist in anyway, so please, don’t take any of  
> this personally.

_“You’re like a jenga tower, teetering on the edge of collapsing, but you always end up surprising_  
_me in the end. How do you do that?”_  
\---------------  
Adel paced the space in the living room, worrying her lips between her teeth.  
“Are you sure about this, May? Adopting a white boy ain’t gonna be good for you or him.”  
she questioned her daughter, Maylin, who sat on the burgundy love seat next to her  
husband, Ruthe.  
“I, well, I feel sure, I know it’s not going to be good for us, ma, but I have a feeling, that if  
they see that a white boy being raised by black parents and turning out just the same as  
them will make them change their minds.” she tried.  
“You know, just as well as everyone else, that they ain’t eva gon’ have any other view of us  
negroes as drug sellin’, law breakin’ shits, Maylin.” Adel spat, not intentionally trying to get  
angry. She was just fed up.  
Maylin stayed quiet, as well as Adel and Ruthe, who hadn’t spoken a word, and chose to  
look at the small, blonde boy who they were going to adopt, not legally of course. She  
watched as he looked out the window as cars slowly drove by.  
“Where the hell did you even find him?” Adel whispered after a while.  
“I told you, ma. A good white friend of ours brother in law died and he had no place for the  
boy in his household, so he asked if we could keep ‘em.” May explained, never taking her  
eyes off the boy.  
“Why did you agree, May?”  
“Because he could’ve died, ma, and I wouldn’t’ve been able to live with myself knowin’  
that.”  
Adel went quiet, knowing that her daughter was right. She herself didn’t have good views  
on white people, but she knew that if this kid was going to be raised under her child’s care,  
he was probably going to turn out better than any other hootin’ tootin’ white kid out there.  
“Mrs. Monero?” a small, light southern voice called out.  
“Yes, sweetheart?”  
“There’s kids outside, can I play wit’em?” the boy asked, smiling hopefully up at May.  
“Uhm, yes, you can, honey.” She turned to Ruthe, who had the same worry in his eyes just  
as she did. “Can you go out with him, just sit on the porch and watch.”  
The man nodded and stood, leading the small boy out the door, waiting ‘til he reached the  
other kid’s to finally walk out himself.  
“Maylin, you better know what you’re doing just now, you know who lives just down the  
street from us!?” Adel exclaimed.  
“Yes, ma. I don’t think Mr. Neal is gonna try ‘n’ come down here after what happened last  
time.” She countered.  
“You betta be thinkin’ different. Mr. Neal is a powerful man, he can throw yo ass in jail  
within seconds, May! He deals in law, and will not show mercy.” Adel stated matter o factly.  
She turned to look out the window where children ran and gasped. “May, you need to get  
yer kid out of there now.”  
“Why, ma?”  
“The Neal kid is out there and if his father comes over here seein’ ya kid playing with ‘em,  
we’re all going down.”  
Maylin gasps, covering her mouth with a fragile hand as she stands and races to the door.  
“Ruthe! Get Rhett in here now!”  
Ruthe looks at her surprised before calling out the boy’s name.  
Rhett looks up at the sound of his name, and sees Ruthe waving for him to come here. He  
turns to the kid next to him whilst standing.  
“Where ya goin’, Rhett?” the boy asks.  
“I gotta go home, maybe I’ll see ya later, Charles.” the blonde gives him a smile before running to his house.  
Charles sits and watches his hopefully new friend disappear. He starts to wonder, though,  
why his parents looked different from Rhett, but doesn’t question it further, he knew what  
his father’s views on different colored skinned people were and he didn’t want to upset him  
by saying the wrong thing.  
He wasn’t even supposed to meet Rhett, for he came over to the area to hang out with  
Bobby Anderson, who was across and down the street from where he was. His father,  
fortunately, didn’t know exactly where the Anderson’s house was at, so he wasn’t in a great  
deal of stress when was picked up.  
“So, how was your time with Bobby?” his father asked as soon as he got into the car. “It was nice, his parents are nice.” He lied.  
“Somethin’ wrong, son?” Mr. Neal looked at his son through the corner of his eye.  
“No, sir.” He lied, again. He was beginning to feel afraid.  
“You know who’s house you were next to?” his father asked, his tone oddly neutral.  
“No.”  
“You were next to a negro's house, son. And you know how I feel ‘bout them, and how you  
should feel ‘bout them.” Anger was practically dripping off each one of Mr. Neal’s words.  
“I don’t see what’s so wrong abou-”  
“ _You don’t see what’s wrong with them, huh?_ ” his father’s voice always scared him, but now  
it made him shake with terror. “ _I’ll tell ya what’s wrong wit’em_.”  
They pull into their driveway, and as soon as Charles got out, he was pulled by his arm into  
the 2-story home roughly.  
“Sit down, boy, we’s gonna have a long talk.”

  
\----------------  
“Rhett, honey?” Maylin’s voice called, hoping for it to reach the youngins ears.  
“Yes, Mrs. Monero?” He called back, walking into the kitchen that Maylin resided.  
“Can I speak to you for a moment?” She asks, leading them to the living room.  
Rhett stays silent, but nods, allowing himself to be seated.  
“So, Rhett, you know the kid yous was hangin’ out with yesterday, right?” She asks,  
although she wasn’t necessarily questioning the blonde boy.

“Charles? Yeah, he’s cool!” he says, smiling at the thought of the boy.  
Maylin smiles slightly, feeling guilt pool in her chest.  
“Do you know who his father is?” she asks.  
Rhett shakes his head.  
“Well, uh, how do I put this,” she pauses, her finger coming up to rest on her chin as she  
thought.  
“Mr. Neal, or Charles’ father, isn’t a very nice man, Rhett, but I don’t want you to think  
Charles is the same,” she looked at the boy, who was looking at her confused.  
“Why is he not nice?” Rhett asks, voice small.  
“Well, to put it clearly, he’s not nice to people like me.”  
“He’s not nice to ladies?” he asks, again.  
Maylin laughs a little, shaking her head.  
“No, honey, he doesn’t like people of my skin color.” she explains, caressing the boys face.  
“And he may not like you, because of us, so, I’m advising you to stray from hanging out  
with Charles.” she says finally.  
Rhett stays quiet for a while, looking out the window.  
“I don’t understand why someone would not like people because of their skin color.” he  
says, barely audible.  
Maylin sat, quiet as tears filled her vision. _I don’t understand, either._


	2. no one is actually dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *creds to my friendo for the title. no one dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Bank!  
> Woodstock: A music and arts festival held on August 15-18, 1969 in which held popular artists such as Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, etc.

The next day, Rhett was sent off for his first day at school. Of course he _had_ to go to an all white school. It was the nearest the school, and the only mix colored school was miles away, and not particularly affordable.

 

“Okay, honey, remember what I told you? Don’t hang with the bad folks and pay attention in class.” Maylin tells Rhett at the door, the bus had just arrived. “Also, your aunt Mamrie will be picking you up, okay?”

 

“Yes, Mrs. Monero.” Rhett says back.

 

“Good, and honey, please call me Maylin.”

 

“Okay, Maylin.”

 

The bus was loaded with kids, of course, who were making lots of noise as they spewed dirty words and laughter.

 

“Hey kid, yeah you, ain’t you the boy that got adopted by them black folks.” A heavy set kid, Rhett didn’t know his name and wishes he won’t find out anytime soon.

 

“Yeah, so?”

 

“Well, ain’t ya know that them black folks are _bad_.” The kid snickers.

 

“Mrs. Monero ain’t bad! She’s the nicest person I’ve ever met.” Rhett snaps back, unintentionally.

 

“Oh, they have names now? Listen kid, just understand that yous not gonna make it anywhere with them kinds of facts.” The kid says, turning away and whispering something a boy in front of him, who then laughed loudly.

 

Rhett frowned, he just didn’t _understand_.

 

\----------------

 

“Okay class, today we are going to get into some literature, I know it the first day of the school year but, I’m not assigning anything too hard, and plus you’ll be with a partner.”

 

The class was mildly quiet as Mr. Hudson talked, whispers and muffled giggles were spared during.

 

“Any questions before I tell you your assigned partners?” Hudson asks, picking up a paper from his desk. The class stayed silent.

 

“Alright, the first pair is Mary and Simon, George and Michael, Mike and Susan, Doug and Patricia, Jacob and Ryan, and finialy, Charles and Rhett.” He places the paper back on his desk and walks out into the middle of the room. There was some sighs and ‘yes!’s that elicited from the class. “Alright everyone, find your partner and seats, and I’ll tell you the rest from there.”

 

Luckily, for an 8th grade class, there wasn’t many students. Kids rushed to each other, obviously knowing one another. Everyone was seated, except for Rhett.

 

“What’s the matter, McLaughlin?” Hudson asks.

 

“Uh, my partner isn’t here.”

 

“Charles? Oh, no, he’s here, his father called him in late. He’ll be in soon so, take a seat.” Hudson gestured to the pair of empty seats in the far back, before turning to the chalk board.

 

Rhett sat down, letting the noise of the teacher talking about the history of the declaration of independence, or whatever, drown as he waited for his partner.

 

_Was it the same Charles from the other day? If so, he better tell Mr. H-_

 

“Ah, Charles, you’re finally here! Oh, my, your face! Are you okay?” Hudson questions as he walks over to Charles.

 

“I’m fine, Mr. Hudson. I’m just a klutz.” He says feebly, silently hoping that the man would believe him.

 

“Oh, uh, okay then. You sit next to Rhett.” He points at the blonde before walking back to the board to continue the lesson.

 

Charles makes his way to the back to his seat, avoiding direct eye contact with the boy next to him.

 

“Charles? Wh-what happened?” Rhett asks, waiting patiently for a response.

 

Charles looked up at him, seeing slight concern bleeding into his features, as if he was worried but, didn’t want to show it.

 

_Should I tell him? I barely know him, but he seems trustworthy._

 

“It was my dad.” Is all he says, barely over a whisper.

 

“W-what?” Rhett’s mouth dropped in awe. “Why would he do such a _thing_.”

 

“‘Cause I was around your house, I think, but it’s not your fault. I should of been where I supposed to be.” He explains.

 

“I’m sorry, man. I should’ve stayed inside.” Rhett says anyways.

 

“It’s not your fault, Rhett.”

 

“I know, but I can’t help to feel guilty.”

 

“It’s okay, he’s just a drunken old man, upset that my ma left him.” The smaller boy felt a rush of hot anger run through him.

 

Rhett couldn’t help, but frown. He didn’t know his father, but he couldn’t help to think that he was the same as Charles’. He frowned even more. _I just_ **_don’t_ ** _understand._

  


\----------------

 

_Summer 1969 - six years later; one month before Woodstock_

 

“Rhett! My man!” Greg shouts as he walks toward the taller man. “Dude, check out my new bellbottoms!” He sticks out a leg, shaking it drastically to show the new item of clothing.

 

“Nice, man, but they look like your old ones.” Rhett laughs as Greg frown, letting out a small ‘really?’ before kicking the blonde in the shin.

 

“Oi! That’s not very nice!” He growls, reaching down to rub the irritated area.

 

“And neither are you, so we’re even!”

 

Rhett just sticks his tongue out at the man, who bellows with laughter.

 

“Anyway, whew, I wanted to ask if you were going to the opening of the new diner downtown, I heard there’s gonna be some ladies there, and they’re gonna be _horny_ , brother.” Greg says as he catches his breath.

 

“I dunno, man. I heard Lance is goin’ there, meaning you ain’t gonna be gettin’ any _horny_ ladies.” He laughs, again, ignoring the dirty glare from the man next him.

 

“Well, that also means you won’t be getting any!” Greg tuts.

 

“Man, I can have any girl I want, if I wanted _girls_ for that matter.” Rhett says back, looking around for a place to sit.

 

“Hahah, yeah- wait, what did you say?”

 

“Nothing, Gregory, c’mon I want somethin’ to drink.”

 

\----------------

 

They ended up going to the opening, after some (a lot) of persuading, Greg, and with the help of Mike, got Rhett to go.

 

“Now, Rhett, I don’t want to hear to complain’, I want us to have a good time, and a good time _only_.” Mike says, lighting the cigarette that was in his mouth, looking back at the taller man. “Understand?”

 

“Yes, mom.” He mocks, playfully, before laughing lightly.

 

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll be thankin’ me later when you end up with a girl in the back of your car.” Mike snorts.

 

“As if, big shot.”

 

They enter the retro themed diner, the sound of [The Beach Boys ‘Alley Oop’](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9q3s4n-PwPc)loudly entering their ears.

 

“Mikey! Oh, It’s so good to see you!” A blonde, about their age, walks up to them, her mini skirt swishing slightly with her walk.

 

“Mhmm, how are you, Patty?” He smiles, placing a hand on Patty’s lower back, slowly moving it downward. The blonde giggles, high pitched and breathy.

 

“Excuse me, lads, call me if y’all need me.”

 

Rhett watches the two walk away, relief rushing through him.

 

“Man, I though we’d _never_ get rid of him!” He jokes, laughing to cover the fact that what he said was actually true.

 

“Haha, sure man. Look there’s Lois and Mary!” Greg says excitedly.

 

“Go on then, I’m gonna get somethin’ to eat.” Rhett tells him, rubbing his stomach as if to emphasize his hunger. Greg just rolls his eyes.

 

“You’re a party pooper, you know that right?”

 

“Proudly.”

 

The two laugh shortly before going separate ways. Rhett makes his way to the bar stools.

 

“Hey, man, you servin’ food?” He asks the cashier.

 

“No, not at the moment, but we do have chips ‘n’ dip.” He replies.

 

“I’ll take it.”

 

The man nods before heading to the back, coming back shortly with a plate.

 

“Here you go, on the house.”

 

“Thanks, man.”

 

The cashier nods and smiles before attending to the soda dispenser.

  
“Uh, excuse me, but is this seat taken?” A voice asks behind him, it’s small and light, almost _feminine_ , but not quite.

 

“Uh, no, go ahead.” He scoots aside, as if on a couch, trying to give room.

 

The person nods as they sit down.

 

“Want some chips ‘n’ dip?” Rhett asks, sliding the plate to the person.

 

“Uh, sure, thanks.” He smiles small, dipping a chip in the yellow, cheese dip. “I’m Link, by the way.”

 

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Rhett.” The blonde extends his hand to Link, who takes it in his.

“Rhett? McLaughlin?” Link asks, softly.

 

“Uh, yeah, how’d you know?” Rhett quirks a brow.

 

“I-I went to school with you, but I went as _Charles_ then.” Link explains.

 

“Uh, oh- Charl-Link? How’ve you been, man?”

 

“Good, good. You?”

 

“I’m six feet above ground, if that says anythin’.”

 

Link nods, slightly solemnly.

 

“Anyway, uh, seein’ anyone?” Rhett coughs, diverting himself from an awkward situation.

 

“What?”

 

“I dunno man, I’m just tryin’ to make conversation.”

 

“Oh, and no.”

 

“No?”

 

“Yeah, no. You?”

 

“Nah, my ma always told me to stray from girls, I guessed it was because they got cooties, or something alike.”

 

Link laughed, his once fresh frown now creased into a tight, happy smile. Rhett allowed himself to marvel in it.

 

“So, ya here with anyone?” Rhett questions, stuffing his mouth with cheese covered chips.

 

“No, I thought they’d be serving food, but I’m guessing not.” The brunette gestures to the almost empty plate of chips ‘n’ dip. Rhett pouts. “You?”

 

“Hey! They’re good, okay. And yeah, kinda, my friends brought me, but I, too, was on a quest for the food.”

 

“Mm, I can tell.” Link giggles.

 

Rhett feels his face flush, hot, fiery burning across his mid face section.

 

“You wanna skat before things get worse? I know of a park we could go to.”

  
“Sure, man.”


	3. Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word bank!  
> Sick: Another term Cool, or Awesome.
> 
> ex. Man, that was so sick!  
> Fag: A common term at the time for a gay person, usually used as a slur.
> 
> Fag*: Another term for cigarettes.  
> ex. "Got any fags?"
> 
> Beans: A another word for ecstasy pills.
> 
> Weed cigarettes: Most commonly known as 'joints'. A cigarette looking item, filled with weed instead of tobacco.
> 
> *I will not be referring cigarettes as fags.

The sun blared down bright, causing the shine on Rhett’s yellow ‘64 mustang to glow even more, blinding would be the correct word.

 

The duo sat on the hood of the cream colored vehicle, watching as stars start to appear as time went on.

 

“So, Link, what have you been doin’ for the past two years?” the blonde breaks the silence in hopes of a conversation.

 

“Been looking for a job, my mom’s trying to help.” Link replies, putting his hands behind his head. “What about you?”

 

“Same, been helpin’ my ma and pa out, even if it ain’t much.” Rhett says, almost forgetting his place as he listens to the sound of rustling trees. “Nothing special.”

 

“You have a job?” Link asks, voice small. He turns his head to look at the other man.

 

“Yeah, at a mechanics shop, I get about $50 for every car I fix, or do detail on.” Rhett explains, turning to look at the brunette. 

 

“That’s so sick, man. Did you go to college?” 

 

“Nah, it’s my uncle's shop, he taught me everythin’ I know about cars.” He chuckles, seeing the excitement and awe in the others eyes. “I can bring ya there sometime, if you want.”

 

“That’d be so coo- I mean, sure.” Link coughs in hope of covering his excitement. All this does is make the taller man laugh.

 

“Rhett?” Link says after a moment of silence.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“How are your folks? I mean, are they doing okay?”

 

“Yeah, uh, well, they could be better but, they’re content, ya’know?” Rhett sighs, turning his attention back to the now twinkling stars.

 

“I’m sorry, Rhett.”

 

“It’s all good, man, it’s not your fault that any of this is the way it is.”

 

Link doesn’t reply, instead he opts for just looking at the blonde. He notices that the features he was once familiar with were still there, but just less  _ prominent _ . His face was still tight and held the ‘youthful bounce’, his cheeks still bunched when he smiled or laughed, but there were dark circles, as if he hadn’t been sleeping which  _ could _ be the case, around his eyes, along with slight bags. Link frowned slightly.

 

He also noticed that the taller man had taken to facial hair, as he had a slightly strong chin strap beard. If anything, he  _ still _ found Rhett to be very handsome,  _ beautiful  _ even. He remembers back when they were in 11th grade, Link would sit with his one good friend at the time, Eric, at lunch time, and they’d sit at he table behind Rhett’s, only because there was a lack of seats everywhere else, obviously, but it also gave Link an excuse to goggle at the tall boy. He knew it was bad, his  _ father  _ reminded him everyday that if his son were to be a  _ fag _ , he’d be put up for adoption. He remembers all the times crying himself to sleep after what his father did to him, wishing many times just not to be alive.

 

But, his father was in jail now, and it was besides the point. Everything was fine during 11th grade, up until one of Rhett’s friends, Steve, he believes, said something to the blonde about Link looking at him, even had the audacity to  _ point  _ at him. Rhett had turned to him and smiled, it was small and wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but it made Link turn away bashfully, face turning a bright red.

 

“Link?” Rhett’s voice brings him out of his train of thought.

 

“Hmm?” 

 

“You okay? I asked you a question and you didn’t reply, I was worried you had died on me.” Rhett laughs curtly, concern etched into his face nonetheless.

 

“Oh, sorry, just thinking. What was the question?”

 

“I asked how your folks were? Ya’know, cause you asked how mine were.”

 

“Oh, heh, they’re fine, my mom’s been helping my step-dad, who's a bit sick at the moment. And my dad, well, he’s in jail.” He tells the blonde, voice wavering.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What did he do?”

 

“A lot. I’ll tell you another time.”

 

Rhett nods, a small frown played on his lips. It made Link want to  _ kiss  _ it away.  _ What? _

 

“So, uh, you thinking about going to Woodstock?”

 

“What? What’s that?”

 

“What? Have you been living under a rock? Woodstock is going to be one of the best music festivals, Jimi Hendrix is gonna be there, man! Janis Joplin, Grateful dead! And I heard that some people are gonna sneak beans, and weed cigarettes.” Rhett exclaimed, looking at Link in hopes he shared the excitement.

 

“Beans? W-weed cigarettes?”

 

“Yeah, man. You don’t have to do the drugs, just enjoy the show.” The blonde reassured.

 

“Oh. I dunno, I’d have to ask my mom-”   
“She doesn’t have to know anything, just tell her you’re, I dunno, going to the diner for a while. C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

 

“Okay, just don’t get me in trouble.”

 

“Believe me, man. I don’t want to be in trouble myself.”

 

\----------------

 

_ August 11st, four days before Woodstock _

 

“Man, Rhett. Where’d ya go that one night? Did ya get yourself a girl?” Mike asks, his arm loosely wrapped around a girl Rhett thinks is named Donna’s trim waist. He tightens his grip on the girl momentarily, drawing a airy giggle from her.

 

“Nah, didn’t even talk to one.” Rhett says, digging his hand into a bag of some cheesy puffs offbrand.

 

“Rhett, do you remember Charles, the one kid who always sat behind us at lunch?” Greg asks as sinks back into the recliner.

 

“Yeah, why?” Rhett asked calmly, although on the inside he was panicking. He knew what his friends were capable of, and he knew they didn’t like  _ fags _ . He didn’t know if Link was indeed a  _ fag _ , but he knew Mike always thought he was back then.

 

“Well, me and Mikey saw him the other day, he’s changed well enough, but that didn’t stop us.” Greg says, smirking as he placed his hands behind his head.

 

“Stop you from what? What did you guys do?” Rhett was standing now, the bag of regrettable calories landing on the floor, forgotten.

 

“Hey, big guy, calm down. All we did is talk to him, then show him what we’ve been wanting to do for years.” Mike chuckled darkly, taking a drag of his recently lit cigarette. 

 

Rhett felt anger rush through him, as well as guilt. He walked up the slick haired man, grabbing his collar and lifting him from his seat. He could see the fear glistening in his eyes, even if his face was calm.

 

“ _ What exactly did you do to him? _ ” Rhett practically growled.

 

Mike gulped audibly, he was panicking on the inside. He knew Rhett was a  _ strong  _ man, and that was an understatement.

 

“W-we jus’ messed with him, kicked him around, but he’s fine!” Mike pleaded, placing his hands on the angry man’s biceps.

 

Rhett scowled at him before releasing his grip, letting Mike fall back onto the couch. He heads to the door of the stuffy apartment, leaving without another word. 

 

Mike let out a breath of relief. Donna, or whatever her name was, placed her hand on him, looking up with worry.

 

“I’m fine, darlin’. For now at least.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ive been holding back on posting this story due to the thought that i might insult someone, and i know that doesn't sound like something i should worry about and then post, but i feel confident about it now.


End file.
